


Redemption

by multilefaiye



Category: Marvel, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe - Cats, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Canon Fix-It, Time Travel, Warrior Cats AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25416241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multilefaiye/pseuds/multilefaiye
Summary: After a long, painful journey of heartbreak and loss, Lionheart dies alone, abandoned by the only father he ever knew. But this is not the end of his journey--StarClan has more planned for him, and he may be the only one who can save AmberClan from the devastation coming their way.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Character(s), Jack Kelly/Peter Parker, Original Character/Original Character
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Spider's Path](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536746) by [Spoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoods/pseuds/Spoods). 



> It's me, back at it again with Another Fucking Fic. [sunglasses emoji]
> 
> Anyway, I recently got back into RDR2 and the ending still makes me cry so I decided to make my own fix-it, but I couldn't quite get it to work with humans so I resurrected an old Warriors AU I had for this 'verse and decided to just run wild. I also got permission from my dear friend Spoods to mix it with her Marvel Warriors AU, because I'm a hoe for that kind of thing. I'm just here to have fun and cringe culture can kiss my ass. Since it's a mix of these two AUs, I decided to go ahead and say I was inspired by her fic, haha.
> 
> A quick guide to the characters mentioned in this chapter:  
> Lionheart - Arthur Morgan  
> Nightstar - Dutch van der Linde  
> Dirtpelt - Micah Bell  
> Wolfclaw - John Marston

The stench of death was heavy in the air.

Lionheart felt his breath rattling in his broken lungs as he lay there in a puddle of his own blood, the light of the setting sun shining across his matted, dirtied pelt. He was dying, and he knew it. In the end, it hadn’t been a dog, or a Darkrunner, or even stars-damned Dirtpelt who killed him--it was the sickness clinging to his lungs, destroying him from the inside-out.

How ironic. After all the death he’d brought others, after all the blood he’d spilled… this was how StarClan saw fit for him to die. Perhaps it was what he deserved.

The golden tom let out a wheeze as he heard pawsteps approaching, his bloodshot eyes straining to see who was coming to watch him die. What he saw made his stuttering heart skip a beat: Nightstar, standing there with a look of horror in his sharp eyes. The larger tom’s fur was pristine, free of the blood and dirt caking Lionheart’s dying form.

“N… Nightstar,” he gasped, trying in vain to lift his head. “Please.” Lionheart didn’t know what he was begging for--was it for Nightstar to finish him off before the disease took him? To sit with him so he wouldn’t die alone? To leave him be?

Nightstar’s eyes hardened and he turned away, not saying a word as he padded back down the hill. Lionheart watched him go without protest, feeling a rush of hopelessness. Nightstar didn’t care enough to even speak to him.

All those years, all that blood Lionheart had spilled for him, and he still didn’t  _ care _ . In a way, Lionheart had expected this, had known it for moons, but to have it confirmed still made something deep inside him ache from something besides the sickness in his chest.

_ At least Wolfclaw and the others are safe, _ he thought morosely as he turned his head to watch the sunset. He may not have been able to save them all, but he was grateful he’d been able to do what he could.

After a few moments of simply staring at the setting sun, his eyes slipped closed and he let out his final breath.

His last thought was,  _ At least I can see the sun one last time. _

Lionheart died alone on that mountainside, abandoned by the only father he’d ever known.

When Lionheart opened his eyes again sometime later, he was surprised to find himself lying not on the side of the mountain, but in a field of tall grasses under a great starry sky. More surprisingly, he could  _ breathe _ . Not only that, but he could  _ move _ , no blood or dirt staining his golden fur. The tom carefully and slowly got to his feet and looked around.

Was this StarClan? Lionheart found that hard to believe. After all that he had done, why would StarClan take him when he died? He should’ve been seeing the fires of hell then, not the stars above…

“I bet you’re confused,” a familiar voice said nearby. Lionheart’s heart no longer beat in his chest, but he could swear he felt it stop at the sound. The voice was a bittersweet distant memory, one he’d thought long forgotten.

“Eliza…?” he asked, turning his head to see a beautiful she-cat standing before him. Her black pelt glimmered in the starlight, a galaxy that shifted with each movement. She was smiling, her eyes gentle as she regarded him.

“Hi, Lionheart,” she said. He felt tears beading in the corners of his eyes and took an unconscious step towards her.

“Eliza,” he said, “I-I’m so sorry; I know we weren’t exactly mates, but… I never should’ve left you n’ Isaac alone like that.” Eliza smiled at him and closed the distance between them, touching her nose to his cheek. It felt cold, but he leaned into the touch anyway.

“It’s okay, Lionheart,” she murmured. “There’s no way you could’ve known what would happen. I always knew your heart belonged to your clan.” Eliza pulled away.

“Is this… StarClan?” Lionheart asked.

“Part of it,” Eliza answered. Her eyes softened and she added, “But you’re not destined for StarClan, Lionheart.”

Lionheart stared at her, feeling his heart sink in his chest. He knew it. There was no way there was a place in StarClan for him, not after all he’d done. His eyes darkened and he averted his gaze, glaring hopelessly at the ground.

“Then why am I here?” he asked. Eliza reached out with a paw to touch his cheek.

“You’re here because I wanted to see you one more time before you went back.”

That made Lionheart pause, and he turned his head to look at Eliza again. “Back?”

Eliza smiled warmly as she told him, “StarClan has decided that you deserve a second chance, Lionheart. A chance to really redeem yourself.”

Lionheart furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?” he asked.

“There’s another clan that needs you,” Eliza said simply.

Before Lionheart could ask her any more questions, he felt sudden fatigue take hold. He blinked a few times and shook his head to try and clear it, but the tiredness stayed. All he wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep, and that scared him.

“W-What’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep the fatigue at bay. Eliza just kept smiling at him, her eyes gentle. She leaned forward and pressed her nose to his cheek again.

“It’s time for you to go,” she told him. “I know you’ll do the right thing.”

That was the last thing Lionheart heard before he collapsed, his eyes falling closed once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lionheart awakens in a strange new place, far from where he "died," and meets some strangers who, strangely, don't seem to have any idea who he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOO HERE WE GO WE ON A ROLL, LADS. Let's see how many chapters I can get out before my hyperfixation dies and I move on to something else.
> 
> Also, a note: yeah, I understand it wouldn't make much sense for Lionheart to know to use they/them pronouns for Ambercloud right when he meets them, but WHATEVER it's my fic I make the rules.
> 
> Also also, a quick guide to who's who in this chapter:
> 
> Ambercloud - Addison Linwood (OC)  
> Spiderheart - Peter Parker  
> Mapleclaw - Harry Osborn  
> Brookpelt - Otto Octavius  
> Smokewhisper - Quentin Beck  
> Applestar - Norman Osborn

The first thing Lionheart became aware of was the pleasant heat of the sun on his fur, as warm as a lover’s touch. Next was the cool grass he was lying in, the earth holding him with the gentle care of a mother holding her kits. Finally, he became aware of a voice, an unfamiliar one speaking from just above him.

“Shit, are you okay?” the voice asked. It was high-pitched, androgynous, full of concern. He cracked open an eye and looked up to see a cat standing over him. The stranger was a brown tortoiseshell with amber eyes that burned like embers as they looked down at him.

“The hell are you?” Lionheart asked. He was surprised at how rough his voice sounded--he’d always had a gruff way of speaking, but it sounded like he hadn’t had a drink of water in  _ moons _ .

It was then that Lionheart realized that he was breathing and his heart was beating.  _ He was alive. _ And not just alive, but free of the illness that had plagued him for so long. The realization startled him so much that his other eye snapped open and he quickly sat up, only to wince at the agony that shot through his body at the motion.

“Hey, be careful!” the tortoiseshell yelped, backing away to give him a bit of room. “You’re wounded, sir.”

“I am…?” Lionheart looked down and saw the tortoiseshell was right. His golden fur was still stained in blood and dirt, and he was covered in scratches and bite marks he recognized from his battle with Dirtpelt.

“Where am I?” Lionheart asked desperately, turning his attention back to the tortoiseshell. They seemed taken aback, wariness shining in their eyes as they looked at him. “This… this ain’t StarClan.”

The tortoiseshell blinked, then said, “No…? Sir, you’re in AmberClan territory.” They furrowed their brow. “Did you hit your head or something?”

_ AmberClan _ . Lionheart had never heard of them before. Sure, he didn’t know  _ all _ of the clans, tribes, and gangs that made their home in the great valley, but he knew for a fact that the mountains where he’d died were owned by no cats. At least, no cats he knew of.

The tortoiseshell spoke again. “Look, sir, I don’t know what happened to you, but I think you should come with me.” They flicked their tail. “I-I mean, I know you don’t know me, but I know the AmberClan medicine cat, and he should be able to help you.”

Lionheart thought it over. He supposed he didn’t really have much choice--this tortoiseshell may be a stranger, but they hadn’t tried to kill him yet and seemed genuinely concerned about him. Besides, if it came down to it, even injured as he was, Lionheart was confident he could take this cat in a fight.

He glanced at them again, flicking his ragged ears. He noticed then how…  _ small _ they were. Lionheart was a pretty large tom and used to towering over those around him, but this cat was barely half his size! The tortoiseshell noticed his staring and wrinkled their nose.

“Did you hear me, sir?” they asked, fidgeting with their paws. “Shit, are you deaf? I mean, it’s okay if you are, I just don’t know that many signs, and I know those are pretty regional anyhow-”

“I ain’t deaf,” Lionheart cut them off. “I heard ya’ just fine.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “I’ll come with you.”

The little tortoiseshell brightened up and beamed at him, though Lionheart could still see a flash of concern in their eyes. “Great!” they chirped. “Alright, ah, I’ll help get you to camp. Can you walk on your own?”

Lionheart looked down at his legs. He slowly and carefully got to his feet, once again wincing at the pain shooting through him and the way his legs shook and trembled. It took a Herculean effort, but soon he was standing.

“I can,” he answered after a moment. The tortoiseshell looked unconvinced.

“Right,” they said. “Look, you’re clearly in bad shape, sir, and I’m not trying to hurt your pride or anything, but you look like a strong wind could blow you right over.”

Well. They weren’t exactly wrong.

“I’ll be fine,” Lionheart insisted anyway. “If I fall, just drag me.”

The tortoiseshell snorted. “Yeah, I’d definitely be able to do that,” they drawled sarcastically. They thought for a moment, then they seemed to come up with an idea. “Look, how about I go back to camp and find a few warriors to help bring you home? That way, you don’t have to deal with me dragging you by your tail and probably getting  _ all _ your wounds infected, and I don’t have to pull a muscle trying to do that.”

Lionheart smirked despite himself, amused by the other cat’s words. As much as he didn’t like the idea of being left alone in this strange clan’s territory, he supposed he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll trust you.”

The tortoiseshell’s expression softened and they nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” They paused for a moment and said, “Oh, by the way, my name is Ambercloud.”

Lionheart blinked and snorted. “ _ Amber _ cloud of  _ Amber _ Clan?” he asked.

Ambercloud stuck their tongue out at him. “Shut up. What’s your name?”

“Lionheart,” he answered before he could stop himself. Normally he’d use one of his many aliases, but… something about Ambercloud made him feel like he could trust them. Besides, based on the lack of fear in their eyes, they didn’t recognize the name.

“Well, Lionheart,” Ambercloud said, “I promise I’ll be right back, okay? We’ll get you some help.” And with that, they turned and disappeared into the undergrowth.

Once they were out of sight, Lionheart looked around to try and determine more of where, exactly, he was. It was clear he was no longer on the mountainside where he’d died, but… how was that possible? Then again, how was  _ any _ of this possible?

Lionheart shook his head and tried to focus on surveying his surroundings, ignoring the questions burning in the back of his mind. He was on the side of a small hill covered in fine grass that swayed in the breeze. All around him were trees, towering above him and reaching towards the sky with outstretched claws. It was a warm, sunny day, without a cloud in the sky.

Eventually, Lionheart sat back down, wincing at the pain in his limbs. He wondered if he were dreaming, if this was all just a hallucination his dying brain came up with to comfort him in his final moments. But if that were the case, why would he still be in so much pain?

After what felt like only a few minutes, Lionheart heard rustling nearby and turned his head to see Ambercloud emerging from the trees, a relieved smile on their face. With them was a pair of toms, one a dark brown and one a deep russet.

“Hey, Lionheart!” Ambercloud chirped. “These are my clanmates, Spiderheart and Mapleclaw.” They gestured to the brown tom and russet tom respectively. “They’re here to help you get back to camp.”

Lionheart nodded to the pair and slowly got to his feet, trying his best to stifle a groan of pain. Immediately, Spiderheart padded to his side and offered his flank. Lionheart hesitated, but he soon found himself leaning against the other tom’s side for support.

“Careful there,” Spiderheart said gently. “Don’t want you to fall over.”

“You look like you’ve been through hell,” Mapleclaw commented, moving to stand on Lionheart’s other side. Lionheart snorted.

“Close enough,” he hummed.

Slowly and carefully, the AmberClan cats began to lead Lionheart through the forest. He limped with every step and had to stop now and then to catch his breath, but the other cats didn’t seem to mind. Spiderheart and Mapleclaw were nothing if not patient and understanding, which softened the blow to the golden-furred tom’s pride ever so slightly.

Eventually, Spiderheart started speaking.

“So where are you from, Lionheart?” he asked. Lionheart wasn’t quite sure how to answer that--he didn’t remember his birthplace, after all, and his clan had never settled down long enough to really call any one place home.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Spiderheart abruptly continued, sounding a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m not trying to pry, I’m just curious. I’ve never seen you around here before, and you don’t smell like any of our neighboring clans or rogue gangs.”

“‘S alright,” Lionheart said. “I’m… not from around here, I don’t think.” He flicked his ears. “Truth be told, I don’ really know where  _ here _ is either.”

Mapleclaw looked confused. “Well, how did you get here?” he asked. “You had to have come from somewhere.”

Lionheart  _ definitely _ didn’t know how to answer that one.

Thankfully, before he could say anything, Ambercloud piped up and mewed, “We’re here!”

Lionheart looked up to see a large clearing in the trees surrounded by bramble thickets. There were two cats standing guard at the entrance, a pretty tabby she-cat and a handsome orange tom with a lighter chest. The pair nodded as Lionheart and the others approached, though they shot Ambercloud a questioning look.

“Where’d you find that one?” the tabby asked suspiciously. “He’s not one of Fisk’s or Silver’s, is he?”

“No,” Ambercloud said. “He’s just a loner; I found him alone just outside the forest, and I figured Brookpelt could take a look at him.

“You know Applestar isn’t going to like that,” the orange tom pointed out.

“Well, Applestar can kiss my furry ass,” Ambercloud said with a snort. Beside Lionheart, Mapleclaw and Spiderheart shared an amused look. “He doesn’t like a lot of things. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Your funeral,” the orange tom hummed. Still, the pair allowed them to pass through and enter the camp without another word.

Inside the clearing, the camp was bustling with activity, cats of all ages going about their duties, living their lives. It reminded Lionheart of his own clan, and he felt a pang of grief in his heart. They’d been so happy, once upon a time, before everything fell apart. Greed, paranoia, and lies had torn the Clan of the Setting Sun to pieces. He lowered his ears and averted his gaze, looking at the ground as Mapleclaw, Spiderheart, and Ambercloud guided him through the camp towards what he assumed was the medicine den.

“You okay?” Spiderheart asked softly. Lionheart glanced up at him before turning his gaze back towards the ground.

“‘M fine,” he muttered. Thankfully, the younger tom didn’t press.

The AmberClan medicine den was marked by a huge, old tree stump, the entrance a gap in the thick roots that protruded from the earth. As they approached, they could hear raised voices from within--clearly, they were interrupting an argument.

“I don’t understand!” one voice, deep and breathy, snapped. “Why can’t you take me as your apprentice? I speak to StarClan--is that not enough? You have to train a successor anyway! You’re not getting any younger, Brookpelt.”

“Unless StarClan tells me personally to take you as an apprentice, I won’t,” the other voice, calmer and higher-pitched, replied. “You may receive messages from StarClan, but there is far more to being a medicine cat than simply that.”

“But-”

“ _ Enough _ , Smokewhisper. Now get out of my den.”

There was an angry growl and a cat with wavy, black fur and a white dash on his chest stormed out of the den, lashing his tail angrily. He hardly spared a glance for Lionheart and the others; he just shoved past them and stalked away towards the camp entrance. Lionheart stared after him for a moment, his brow furrowed.

If that cat really talked to StarClan, maybe Lionheart should seek him out later. Maybe he would know what Eliza had meant with all that talk about Lionheart being given a “second chance.”

Ambercloud rolled their eyes before they turned their attention to the den and called out, “Hey, Brookpelt! I got a new patient for ya’.”

A dark brown tom with a lighter chest poked his head out of the den and squinted at them, an irritated expression on his face that quickly melted away when he saw who was there.

“Oh!” he said. “Ambercloud, it’s good to see you.” He smiled and nodded at them, then turned his attention to Lionheart. “Oh, who is this?”

“Name’s Lionheart,” Lionheart said.

“I found him out in the forest and thought he could use some help,” Ambercloud explained. “Mapleclaw and Spiderheart helped me get him back to camp.”

Brookpelt nodded in understanding. “Well, that’s very kind of you,” he said. “Come on, bring him inside, and I’ll take a look.” He then shot Ambercloud a look and asked, “You did run this by Applestar first, though, right?”

Ambercloud shrugged. “I’ll talk to him later,” they said.

That seemed to satisfy Brookpelt, who moved aside so that Lionheart could limp into the den, Mapleclaw and Spiderheart supporting him the whole way. It was surprisingly spacious under the stump, with room for all four cats and then some.

“Just lie down here, Lionheart,” Brookpelt said with a nod to one of the nests in the corner, towards the back of the den. Lionheart nodded and made his way over there. The moment Mapleclaw and Spiderheart moved to give him space so he could lie down on his own, his legs gave out from under him and he collapsed into the pile of moss and grass.

“Shit!” he groaned, ears flushing hot in embarrassment.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Mapleclaw asked, eyes wide.

“Jus’ tired,” Lionheart grumbled, trying his best to retain what dignity he had left.

“That’s your cue, young warriors,” Brookpelt barked. “Go find something to do--I have a patient to take care of.” He turned his head and shot Ambercloud a look. “And  _ you _ need to talk to Applestar, sooner rather than later.”

Lionheart couldn’t see Ambercloud from where he lay, but he could practically  _ hear _ the eye-roll in their voice as they replied, “Yeah, yeah, fine, I’ll go talk to the old fleabag.”

“My dad doesn’t have fleas,” Mapleclaw protested, but Lionheart could see he was more amused than offended.

“He has the  _ personality _ of a fleabag,” Ambercloud clarified in a matter-of-fact tone, prompting a chuckle from both toms.

“ _ Out _ ,” Brookpelt said. “All of you except Lionheart, get out.” He ushered the pair of toms out of the den with a frown on his face. Once they were out, Ambercloud poked their head into the den.

“I’ll be back to visit you later, Lionheart,” they promised with a gentle smile. Lionheart smiled back, though it was a little strained. The little tortoiseshell then quickly backed out of the den and walked away, presumably to speak to this Applestar character.

Lionheart quietly wondered what Applestar must be like to inspire such contempt from his own warriors. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to stick around and find out.

“Alright, Lionheart,” Brookpelt said. “Let me take a look at you.” The medicine cat padded over to him and sniffed him, wrinkling his nose. “Mind telling me what happened?”

Lionheart thought it over for a moment. Finally, he settled on, “Got in a fight.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a fight,” Brookpelt hummed.

“You should see the other cat,” Lionheart said with a weak smile. He knew Dirtpelt had ended up better off than him in the aftermath of their fight, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get a few good blows in. There was a reason Lionheart had been Nightstar’s top enforcer for so long, and his skill in combat was a large part of it.

Thinking of Nightstar brought forth a sharp pang of grief and betrayal in Lionheart’s heart and he lowered his ears, glaring at the ground. How much had he been worth to Nightstar, really? He’d been wondering that for moons if he was honest with himself, maybe even years. Seemed he had his answer now.

If Brookpelt noticed his sudden change in demeanor, he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he simply continued cataloging the various wounds crisscrossing Lionheart’s hide, wrinkling his nose. Eventually, Brookpelt lifted his head and padded towards one wall of the den, which was lined with shallow holes filled with herbs.

“I’ll give you some poppy seeds for the pain,” he said, “and prepare a poultice for your wounds. It seems like they’ve all stopped bleeding, but that doesn’t mean they won’t reopen. I’ll be keeping you in here for a few days at least to monitor you.”

Lionheart shifted slightly in the nest. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, spending a few days helpless in the medicine den. It reminded him too much of what happened after he was kidnapped by DoveClan, spending a moon useless in camp while he healed. Besides, this wasn’t his clan, and he didn’t know these cats.

But… he supposed he had no real choice. He sighed and nodded. Brookpelt glanced over at him, and the medicine cat’s eyes softened.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “you’ll be fine in just a few days. Most of these wounds are superficial.”

“I trust you, Brookpelt,” Lionheart said with another nod.

Brookpelt gathered some poppy seeds in a leaf and brought them over, setting them down in front of Lionheart. “Take these,” he ordered. “I’ll get started on the poultice while you rest.”

Lionheart obediently bent down and ate the seeds. Almost immediately, the fatigue he had felt earlier returned, and the pain began to fade away. He rested his head down on his forelimbs and allowed his eyes to fall closed.

If this really was all just a hallucination brought on by his dying mind, he supposed it wasn’t so bad.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Lionheart begins to heal, he learns more about the clan he's found himself with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE WE GO ANOTHER CHAPTER,,,, FINALLY. We're finally here, lads.
> 
> Quick tw for the beginning of this chapter, as it's a pretty,,,,,,,, gorey nightmare, I think. I'm not the best at judging how much gore is too graphic, but. Better safe than sorry! If you'd like to skip that part, start reading at "Lionheart woke with a start..."
> 
> Also, again, quick guide to who's who (at least, among the new characters):  
> Shaleclaw - Xavier Fareil (Spoods's OC)

Lionheart’s dream was… strange. He felt like he was floating aimlessly through water, his eyes wide open but unable to see anything. There were voices around him, passing by without a care as he drowned. He couldn’t breathe, his throat and lungs were burning, he had to escape--

He tried to swim up, to find the surface, but his paws met empty air. Lionheart began to panic, thrashing around and looking frantically around the darkness for something,  _ anything _ he could use to escape this terrible death.

Eventually, though, his paws met something solid. Instinctively, he unsheathed his claws and clung to it, desperate to hang on to anything stable in this strange world he found himself in. When he did, he felt the familiar sensation of blood running over his paws, sticking thickly in his fur and staining it red.

Suddenly, Lionheart could  _ see,  _ and what he saw made his heart sink in his chest.

His claws were digging into the fresh corpse of a black cat with white freckles on her face, floating limply in the water. Her throat had been torn away and her eyes stared vacantly into the darkness.

It was Eliza.

Lionheart immediately retracted his claws and shoved away, and clouds of blood began to fill the darkness. Eliza turned to look at him, her eyes glazed over and clouded.

“Why?” she asked.

Lionheart could do nothing but scream, his mouth and lungs filling with water as he stared at Eliza.

Lionheart woke with a start, his sides heaving and his eyes wide. He lifted his head quickly and felt a sudden rush of dizziness, letting out a quiet groan. It took him a moment to regain his bearings and calm himself down. Once he was calm, he took a deep breath and glanced around the den.

It was dark now, the camp outside mostly silent aside from the sounds of the forest surrounding it. Brookpelt was nearby, sleeping peacefully curled up next to a tortoiseshell and white she-cat. Aside from that, the den was empty, though.

Lionheart let out a sigh and was about to go back to sleep when he felt a sudden pang of hunger deep in his belly. Right… when was the last time he’d eaten? He was used to going hungry, ever since he was a kit, but he knew he wouldn’t get any better if he didn’t eat something. Taking a deep breath, he slowly got to his paws, cobweb-bandaged limbs shaking with the effort.

It took far longer than he would’ve liked, but eventually, Lionheart managed to limp his way to the den’s entrance. Thankfully, he was able to do so without waking up Brookpelt or the she-cat. He glanced back at them one more time before he stepped out into the camp itself.

The camp was empty, all the cats sleeping in their dens. Now that he wasn’t in as much pain and could actually take in the sights, he looked around curiously.

AmberClan’s camp wasn’t particularly large, but every inch of the limited space was utilized. Dens were dug under bushes, in the roots of trees, in old logs, and under stumps. There was a massive oak tree with branches hanging over the camp and shielding it from any rain. Lionheart surmised that must be where the leader, this Applestar character, gave announcements.

In the center of camp, in a little dip in the soft earth, was the fresh-kill pile. It was far from overflowing, but there was far more food there than Lionheart had ever seen in his own clan’s camps over the years. Part of him was bitter, then, wondering if that had been Nightstar’s design. Only a few moons ago, he never would’ve believed his leader capable of such a thing, but… well, things changed.

How had Wolfclaw put it?  _ “Guess all I got left now is doubts. Doubts and scars.” _ Lionheart could certainly relate.

Lionheart shook his head and huffed a sigh, turning his attention back towards the fresh-kill pile. He didn’t want to waste their resources, especially when they were already putting effort into healing him, but… he wasn’t exactly in the shape to hunt.

_ I’ll hunt something for them when I’m feeling better, _ he thought resolutely as he limped his way over to the pile. He still wasn’t sure if any of this was real, but if it was… well, it was the least he could do.

He’d only just reached the pile when a voice interrupted him. This voice was deep and rough, with a threatening undertone that did not escape Lionheart’s notice.

“Well, you must be Lionheart,” the voice said. Lionheart stiffened and turned his head to see a cat approaching him, a deep russet tom with a narrow face and large ears. He looked a lot like Mapleclaw, just with shorter fur, and Lionheart surmised this must be his father. Applestar.

Lionheart dipped his head respectfully out of habit. “That’s me,” he confirmed. Applestar hummed and came to a stop across the fresh-kill pile from him. It was obvious the other tom was sizing him up, green eyes shining gold in the dim light of the moon above.

“You’re not what I expected,” Applestar hummed. He bent down and chose a plump bird from the pile, looking at Lionheart expectantly. Lionheart stared at him uneasily, flicking his tail. The leader stared back, meeting Lionheart’s gaze with his own.

“Aren’t you going to pick something?” Applestar said calmly. Lionheart’s ears grew hot.

“Well, I don’ wanna be a burden,” he said quickly, looking away from Applestar’s shining eyes.

“My medicine cat is already using our resources to heal you,” Applestar pointed out drily. “You’re already a burden. What’s one piece of prey?”

Something deep inside Lionheart twinged at that, but he pushed it down and smoothed out his expression into a carefully neutral frown. 

He bent down and picked a piece of prey from the pile at random, a shrew so thin he could feel its fragile bones crack as he picked it up. Applestar nodded in approval and picked up his bird, walking towards a patch of ground shaded by the canopy above. Lionheart, not quite sure what to do, began to walk back to the medicine den, the shrew held carefully in his powerful jaws.

“Lionheart,” Applestar said, his voice ringing out across the clearing, “why don’t you join me?”

Lionheart froze and glanced back towards Applestar. The leader was lying comfortably in the shade, his tail slowly lashing back and forth as he stared at the golden tom. There was something in Applestar’s eyes that reminded him of Nightstar, an underlying threat hidden beneath a charismatic guise.

He could tell he had no choice in the matter, despite the discomfort twisting in his belly. Without a word, he padded over to Applestar and settled a couple of tail-lengths away, setting down the shrew at his paws. Applestar said nothing, just continued watching him.

Lionheart took a careful bite of the shrew. There wasn’t much meat on it, but it was better than nothing. Besides, Lionheart had had much worse. It was enough to quell the pangs of hunger deep in his gut.

Applestar started eating as well after a moment, taking long, slow bites and taking his time chewing each one. The whole time, he kept his eyes on Lionheart. Lionheart felt his pelt prickle and, eventually, he had to speak up.

“Whatcha starin’ at?” he asked, unable to keep the growl from his voice. Applestar smiled, slick as an eel and condescending in a way that made Lionheart uneasy.

“You, of course,” Applestar answered simply. “Is it wrong for me to be curious about the rogue my warriors dragged in, bloody and dirty, and gave to my medicine cat without consulting me?”

“I didn’t ask to be brought here,” Lionheart said. “If you want me to leave, just say so.”

Applestar chuckled. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said. “At least, not yet.” He took another bite of his bird and chewed it slowly. Finally, he swallowed and changed the subject. “Ambercloud tells me you’re not a member of Silver or Fisk’s gangs. Is this true?”

“I don’t even know who those cats are,” Lionheart replied. Applestar nodded and licked his chops.

“So you’re simply a loner,” he hummed. “A loner with a clan name… how curious.” He crossed his paws. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself, Lionheart?”

“Why should I?” Lionheart asked before he could stop himself. For the first time, he saw a flash of irritation in those green eyes, though it was gone before he could fully register it.

“I’m simply curious,” Applestar said. “I’d like to know about you before I decide whether you can stay in my camp, determine whether or not you’re a threat to my clanmates.” His eyes hardened slightly. “You’re not a threat, are you, Lionheart?”

“No, sir,” Lionheart replied quickly. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. In his current state, Lionheart wasn’t a threat to anyone, but once he was healed… well, that was another story.

At the very least, he didn’t  _ intend _ to harm the cats of this clan if he could help it. His days of slaughtering clans and killing to kill were over.

Applestar, unaware of the thoughts racing through Lionheart’s mind, nodded as though that were the answer he were expecting. “Good,” he said. “Then I suppose you can stay for now.”

Lionheart wasn’t sure what to say. Eventually, he settled on a quiet, “Thank you.”

The russet-furred tom didn’t say anything, just glanced up at the sky. After a moment, Lionheart followed suit. Though it was difficult to see the moon through the thick canopy above, it was clear that the moon was setting. Night was almost over, and the sun would return soon enough.

“Well,” Applestar hummed. “It seems our time is almost at an end.” He looked back at Lionheart. “You should go get some rest, Lionheart. I’ll see you soon.”

The leader got to his feet and picked up what was left of his bird, carrying it back to his den beneath the roots of the great oak tree. Lionheart stared after him a moment before he shook his head, gathered up the remains of his shrew, and limped his way back to the medicine den.

He was starting to see why Ambercloud didn’t like Applestar.

It took a week or so for Lionheart to fully heal and be able to walk without a limp. In that time, he didn’t see Applestar again, but he did see Ambercloud. True to their word, the tortoiseshell came to visit him when they could, often bringing prey and stories to keep him entertained while he healed. At this point, he considered Ambercloud a friend.

It was a warm, sunny day, just like when he’d been found, when Lionheart carefully padded out of the medicine den. His fur was still dirty and ruffled, though he’d made an attempt at grooming himself once the cobweb gauze was removed. Lionheart had never cared much about his appearance, but he still knew it was important to groom himself now and then.

The clan hardly paid him any mind, simply going about their business and fulfilling their duties for the day. For a moment, Lionheart simply stood there, watching the cats, letting their voices wash over him. He furrowed his brow in thought. What was it Eliza had said?

_ “There’s another clan that needs you.” _

Could she have been talking about AmberClan…?

“Lionheart!” Ambercloud called, breaking Lionheart out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the tortoiseshell trotting towards him, followed by a large grey tom with jagged scars across his face. The tom was staring Lionheart down with barely-disguised contempt.

“There you are,” Ambercloud said once they were close enough. They had a grin on their face, as per usual. “You’re looking much better.”

“Thank you,” Lionheart replied. He smiled back at them, happy to see his friend, before he glanced up to see the grey tom giving him a look that radiated distrust. His smile fell slightly. Thankfully, Ambercloud didn’t seem to notice as they continued.

“I was hoping to introduce you two sooner rather than later!” Ambercloud chuckled. “This is my mate Shaleclaw. Shaleclaw, this is my friend Lionheart.”

“Nice to meet ya’,” Lionheart said.

“It’s a pleasure,” Shaleclaw said with a polite nod, but Lionheart could still see the wariness shining in those green eyes. Ambercloud beamed at the two, clearly happy to see them getting along (or, at least, not outright attacking each other). 

“We were just about to go hunting,” they said to Lionheart. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Sure,” Lionheart agreed. He didn’t know what Shaleclaw’s problem with him was, but he knew he had to repay the clan that had healed and fed him for the past week. Besides, it was nice to spend time with Ambercloud.

“Actually,” another voice cut in, “Lionheart will be accompanying me instead.” Lionheart felt his heart drop and he glanced over to see Applestar approaching. The russet-furred tom’s tail waved back and forth as he approached, his eyes gleaming.

Ambercloud scowled at Applestar (silently, Lionheart was more than a little impressed that they didn’t seem afraid of challenging their leader  _ openly _ ). “I thought you were going with Spiderheart and Lilystep on patrol,” they said icily.

Applestar, seemingly unbothered by Ambercloud’s hostility, replied, “Things have changed.” He nodded to Shaleclaw, who nodded back.

“Love,” Shaleclaw began, “we can hunt with Lionheart another time. Why don’t we ask Mapleclaw?”

Ambercloud still looked disappointed, but they sighed and nodded. “Alright,” they said. They turned their head to look at Lionheart and added, “Sorry, buddy, looks like you’re stuck with the fleabag.”

Applestar’s ears twitched, but he otherwise did not comment.

“I’m sure I’ll live,” Lionheart said evenly, wary of offending the leader. Ambercloud snorted and even Shaleclaw cracked a small smile.

“I’ll see you around!” Ambercloud chirped. Then, with Shaleclaw walking just behind them, his eyes gleaming protectively, they padded away towards what Lionheart assumed must be the warriors’ den.

“Shall we?” Applestar asked, flicking his tail. Lionheart swallowed uneasily.

“Sure,” he said.

The two toms walked through the camp entrance and out into the forest itself. It was another warm day, though the sky was clouded and there was a slight breeze ruffling the two cats’ fur.

Lionheart glanced at Applestar as they walked, at the russet tom’s carefully neutral expression. It was clear Applestar had some ulterior motive for this; otherwise, he wouldn’t have insisted Lionheart come with him. The only question was  _ what _ .

Instead of asking directly, Lionheart asked another question. “Why do you let your warriors talk to you like that?”

“Ambercloud has always been quite the insolent little cur,” Applestar replied with a flick of his ears. “But, despite that, they’re a good asset to the clan. Excellent hunter, good fighter, steadfastly loyal… I can deal with some prodding now and then as long as they continue to serve AmberClan. My warriors are free to have their own opinions of me so long as they continue to do their duties.”

Huh. Well, that made sense. Again, Lionheart found himself thinking of Nightstar… this sort of behavior was nothing like the other tom. Nightstar wanted his clan to think of him as a father figure, and he never tolerated dissent or backtalk.

Lionheart couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

For a time, the two toms walked in silence, then Applestar spoke again.

“So you’ve healed from your injuries,” Applestar said. “I am glad to see that you are well.” Lionheart realized he wasn’t sure how sincere the other tom was in the sentiment. “Brookpelt tells me you were injured in a fight.”

“Ah, yeah,” Lionheart said, flicking his ears. “It’s a long story.”

“Were you fighting one of my warriors?” Applestar asked evenly. Lionheart blinked at him.

“What?” he said. “No, of course not! I didn’t even know there was a clan here, honest! I was fightin’...” He trailed off, his brow furrowing and his gaze darkening. “I was fightin’ the rotten cur who killed my mother.” It wasn’t exactly true, but it was the only way Lionheart could think of to describe Dirtpelt without revealing too much.

Besides, it wasn’t exactly wrong, either. Hawkeyes had always been like a mother to Lionheart, if a particularly strict and sharp-tongued one. He’d always known she cared about him like a son, and he cared about her. His heart panged as he thought of her, of her death… she hadn’t deserved it. None of them had.

“My condolences,” Applestar said, snapping Lionheart out of his thoughts. He shot Lionheart a calculating glance. “How did this fight go?”

“... I lost,” Lionheart admitted after a moment.

“Unfortunate.” Applestar stopped a few pawsteps in front of Lionheart and turned around to face him, his eyes hard. “This cat you fought… they aren’t a threat to my clan, are they?”

“I don’t know,” Lionheart replied truthfully. “I don’t know where the damned furball went after he left me to die.” Thinking of Dirtpelt filled him with a deep, righteous anger, and he unconsciously flexed his claws. If he ever saw that piece of foxdung again, he wouldn’t hold back.

Applestar narrowed his eyes slightly, but he nodded. “Well,” he said, “I suppose time will tell.” He turned around and continued walking down the path, gesturing with his tail for Lionheart to follow. Lionheart only paused for a moment before he did so.

“Where will you go now?” Applestar asked after a long moment of silence.

“Pardon?” Lionheart asked.

“Now that you are healed. Where will you go? Or do you plan to stay with my clan?” Applestar glanced over his shoulder at Lionheart, green-gold eyes narrowed.

“... I’m not sure,” Lionheart replied. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go, but I don’t want to impose.”

Applestar hummed and turned back to look ahead, clearly mulling the answer over in his mind.

For a time, they walked through the forest in silence, both toms keeping their ears on a swivel for the sounds of prey. Strangely, it seemed the forest was silent today. There was  _ nothing _ around. By this point, clouds had begun to fill the sky, obscuring the sun and casting shadows over the forest. Lionheart supposed there must be a storm coming.

“Lionheart,” Applestar began, once again snapping the golden tom out of his thoughts, “what do you think of my clan?” He didn’t turn to look at Lionheart this time, but the steel of his eyes was audible in his voice.

Lionheart thought the answer over for a moment before he responded. “I think you’re a good group of cats. The ones I’ve talked to are certainly nice enough.”

Applestar hummed. Lionheart wasn’t sure if he approved of his answer.

Eventually, the pair reached a river located in a small gorge, deep and flowing so fast the sound was a roar in Lionheart’s ears. He padded closer to take a look, sniffing the air curiously. The air was thick with the smell of water, but underneath he could detect the tell-tale scent of fish.

“We could try catching some fish?” he suggested. Applestar shook his head.

“We might fall,” Applestar pointed out. “This river is known as the Rushing Waters--no cat who falls in escapes with their life. Besides, I doubt there’s any fish; the current’s too fast.”

Well. He had a point.

Lionheart glanced warily at the water before he backed away from the edge. He’d never been much of a swimmer even when he was young, and he wasn’t keen on testing Applestar’s words about the river’s survival rate.

Applestar flicked his ears at Lionheart’s caution and sniffed the air as well. He frowned.

“Lionheart,” he said after a moment, “I think you should go back the way we came. Perhaps us walking together is frightening the prey.”

“You sure?” Lionheart asked, furrowing his brow. He didn’t know why, but strangely he didn’t want to leave Applestar alone. As much as the other cat made him uneasy, he had a bad feeling. Something was about to happen.

Applestar narrowed his eyes at him and scoffed, “Yes, I’m sure. Go on now, Lionheart. See if you can catch something.”

And with that, the russet tom padded away, his tail swaying slightly behind him as he did. Lionheart watched him go for a moment, trying to decide what to do. If he followed Applestar, surely the other tom would be upset with him, but… if he did as Applestar said, he just knew something would happen.

Suddenly, there was a scream from beyond the trees, followed by a loud splash. At once, Lionheart rushed towards the sound, his heart pounding in his chest.

When he reached where the sound had come from, he found there was no one there. Applestar was gone. He turned his head towards the river, where he saw a flash of red fur amid the roaring current.

Without thinking, Lionheart jumped into the Rushing Waters.

**Author's Note:**

> you ever just take your hyperfixations and forcibly combine them together for your own enjoyment


End file.
